Axenome's Naruto Plot Bunny Hutch
by Axenome
Summary: Various plot bunnies that are cluttering up my brain, adding them as I finish them. Contact me if you see one that you like and want to adopt; those who have adopted a plot bunny will have their names added to the relevant chapter. Usually Rated M.
1. The Rules!

**RULES AND REGULATIONS FOR ADOPT-A-FIC**

Welcome to the Plot Bunny Hutch!

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Contained herein are a variety of story ideas I've come up with that, for whatever reason, I'm not likely to pursue. If you wish to attempt to write these stories, message me, and I'll put your name on the story prologue's end so that people who want to see you take on it can find their way to your story. I don't insist on much, but please don't contradict anything I've placed in the prologue I give. Otherwise, have fun and write!

Ja Mata.

-AXENOME


	2. Down For Life

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor do I own or have personal affiliation with any UDT teams.

Foreward: This story is not meant to inflame or defame any members of the SEALs, UDT's, or any other hard working and faithful members of any military anywhere. I recognize the devotion of these individuals in their chosen careers and thank them for it. The nation in which Fire City exists is a much more degraded nation than most readers are accustomed to, with complete amnesty for the wealthy without even a pretense otherwise, while local laws are a more capricious and corruptable form than what many experience now. In the concept I've espoused herein, I postulate a nationwide slum, inner cities that stretch to the city limits, with few options, much desperation, and almost no way out. It's very nihilistic, possibly even post apocalyptic, and as such does not intentionally represent any nation, past or present.

Plot Bunny: Down For Life

The door slams inwards. I look up from the table where I'm working on modding my piece to see Kiba standing there at the door in his canvas jacket. He smiles at me, and I can see his creepy, filed down teeth even from here. He fans his fingers in a fast flash of the Konoha leaf.

"Yo, Naruto. It's time."

"Gimme a sec. Almost done here." I reply.

"Hurry that shit up- we got places to be and bodies to make." He says, as he pulls his pistol and checks the clip.

I nod, absently jamming the last of my cold noodles from the bowl in my mouth, while my fingers finish attaching the recoil assembly. It takes mere minutes but it feels like forever, especially when I know what we're gonna be doing in a half hour.

Half an hour from now, we'll be rolling out. A half hour after that, we'll be riding back in, get ready to get drunk and high and sexed up.

That's how missions run in the hood.

"We ready to rock?" Kiba asks impatiently.

"Yup." I say, locking the parts back and checking to be sure they're secure.

"Righteous." Kiba says with a grin.

I snort in response. "Righteous?" I say. "This is anything but righteous. This is blood and death. This is vengeance, and we're all gonna go to hell for it, but dawg, it's all about how many bodies you push off this earth and send ahead to pave the road smooth for you."

Less than a year, I've been a Konoha. Less than a year of fame and sex and violence and territorial skirmishes before my death sentence has been laid down. In a way, it's kind of an honor. I've made myself famous enough that Akatsuki- our rival from about twelve streets down- decided I was too sexy to live. I've been seeing the work put in by their painters, talking about how they're gonna kill the Fox- my nickname on the street- and hang my jawbone in nine pieces around the city, give the rest of us a treasure hunt to make my funeral open casket. Course, it's something of a retaliation after I curbstomped one of their hoodrats who was tagging up my homie's house. I can't even call it an over reaction since I picked up the teeth left over, taped each one to a nickel, and fed-ex'd the bunch of them in a package labeled "Dental Insurance" back to his boyfriend's pad.

We all got a good laugh out of it afterwards, but apparently they decided that was over the line or something.

If I'd known they were gonna be this bitchy over it I'd have saved the nickels.

To Konoha, I'm a hero. To Akatsuki, I'm public enemy number one. But that's the way it is with street gangs.

Gangs are like nations in miniature. We have our own laws, diplomacy, established territories. We sign off on alliances, have our own self defense armies, invade other's territories, and even declare war. When larger gangs start to threaten our lands, we form coalitions, and nowhere is it more true that the enemy of my enemy is my friend- at least until we've pushed that common enemy into the grave.

Welcome to the Hood.

My pulse is high as we walk into the big, three car garage at Jiraiya's place. Jiraiya was a member of the Navy UDTs back before he moved into the hood and helped found the Konoha, and he still has the hook ups with some of his old Frogmen buddies. They understand what loyalty means long after the government they worked for betrayed them, and while he's home helping out the hood the old members of his team- which isn't often because loyalty runs both ways, and Jiraiya helps them clean out their local trash as often as they help him- sometimes give us ex military assistance.

Hyuuga Neji is there, and I watch with amusement as he checks the sparks on his gloves. Neji is a sick fucker, and he likes nothing better than a good old fashioned beat down with those gloves. About three or so years ago, he modded a car battery into a flat thing he can wear under his jacket on his back, and added a pair of capacitors to really crank up the wattage. In the palms of the gloves are a pressure switch that unloads the volts on whatever he hits with an open palm- and the longer it takes for him to land an open palm shot, the more time they have to charge up. I've seen him fuck around with a thug for a minute to max out the voltage before he lays one right across the cheek with enough charge to leave a burn mark. He'll use guns when the mission calls for it, but he likes nothing better than electrical burns and the smell of smoking flesh while he stands over the writhing form of some poor bastard who had it coming.

He even made a set for his little cousin Hinata. She uses them too, but not as well as he does, and she doesn't enjoy it the way he does, either. Come to think of it, that's probably why she isn't as good with them as he is.

We hear a sound from the door to the house and almost by itself, my piece is in my hand, but I relax as I see who it is. Lee and Gai.

Those two are a pair that's crazy even for the street. Both of them swoll as a motherfucker, crazy weight lifters and big on martial arts. Gai will use a gun on occasion, but Lee is fucked in the head. The furthest he will go is knives, and that pretty rarely.

Course, as buff as those two are, they can take a bullet to the chest and doesn't even penetrate the muscle. I know, because I've seen it, twice on Lee.

Lees pops a thumbs up at use and shows off those teeth that he obsesively whitens once every two months. "Yo, bitches, we ready to rain on some bloody hoes?"

Those of us in the garage snicker a little at this, bloody hoes being the rightful name (by our estimation) of those pretentious cunts that call themselves Akatsuki, the Red Dawn. They imitate the custom by calling us forest carpets instead of Leaf, implying that we're all gonna be stepped on, but it's cool. At the end of the day, it's them that's gonna be stepped on, to wipe our feet once we've finished walking through them.

Neji takes a quick look around the garage, assessing the attendees. "Just waiting on a couple more."

We wait a few more anxious minutes as people trickle in, Sakura and Sasuke the last ones to arrive. The Konoha Twelve, as they call us rising hood stars, plus a couple OG's, three cars, fifteen guns, and about three hundred rounds of ammo that won't be put away tonight.

"Granny" Tsunade hefts her two by four over her shoulder along with her emergency medkit; she's got a .44 magnum revolver stuffed in the waistband of her jeans that sits stark against the smooth, flat stomach that most of us lower case G's have thought about running our hands across a couple times in the past. She sports a halter top that's tight across the most massive rack of any in Konoha, but nobody dares approach her with a proposition because she's as fast with that two by four as she is with the gun or the medkit.

Ask Jiraiya, he'll tell you. She's like a rare wine, fine as hell and all the better for her age but nobody here can afford her.

All the cars have sun roofs, so the folks on the opposite side of the car can get a shot in as we pass, it's like a calling card for a drive by vehicle in Fire City. The cops pretend not to notice so long as it happens on established gang turf and doesn't involve too many civilians, and in exchange the cop stations stay standing in the middle of the night without any accidental fires. We all put on the army surplus helmets and flak jackets that Jiraiya got smuggled in by his old buddies, mount up, and head out.

The night is cool, clear, and bright with the full moon.

A great night for turning out a party.


	3. Seven

**Axenome Presents: Seven**

Prologue: By These Two Hands

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Two Academy instructors looked on the blood soaked room from the observation booth, each wearing similar espressions of indifference.

Wataro spoke first. "Well, I imagine that concludes this year's graduation."

Nageru nodded his agreement. The survivors, many of whom were shaking, some bleeding, a few retching, and one or two outright crying over the bodies of their fallen comrade/opponents, these survivors would become genin of Kirigakure. They had bloodied their blades and their hands, taken the lives of their comrades of four years of training. They had proven with their hands and wills that they were devoted to Kirigakure above all else- friends, family, even their own lives.

The fallen would be returned to the sea, as it had always been and always would be.

There were other spectators here as well- a new tradition was being instated. The genin hopefuls of next year were being brought here to witness the rite of passage, to ready themselves for what would come. They, too, seemed to be reacting hard to this, with one or two notable exceptions.

"The results?" Came a voice from behind them.

The two chunin gave a start; neither had known that- or even when exactly- the Mizukage had entered the room. Nageru found his voice first. "Twenty-two candidates have passed, Mizukage-sama."

"Mmm." Grunted the Kage. "Weren't there fifty-eight in the graduating class?"

The two chunin exchanged a rueful look. "There were a few more... grudges than average this year." Replied Wataro. "They were discontent to remain with their assigned opponents, milord."

Mizukage nodded sagely. "Hmm. Next year's graduates will be more plentiful- a hundred four in that class, if I remember correctly." He eyed the assembly of academy students in the observation booth speculatively. "At any rate, those who fell we can better afford to lose here, than out on mission where their failure would reflect on the village."

The Kage turned back to the observation window. "Are there any notables among them?"

Nageru gave a gesture of assent as he adjusted his rebreather. "How many did you want, Mizukage-sama?"

The Mizukage stroked his chin. "I'll take the top four."

The two chunin nodded, then led the Mizukage down to the room. As a group, heedless of the blood on the floor, the new genin dropped to their knees as the village leader entered the room. Though they had been shaken by their graduation, they had not forgotten their duty. "Hail, Mizukage-sama!" They shouted in unison.

The Kage's cool expression did not betray to anyone his satisfaction at their response.

"Akaru, Youhai, Shimada, Nerui! Front and center!" Barked Wataro. His face, too, was obscured by his rebreather, and the students did not respond. They would never speak unless they knew the name of their superior, and in the Kirigakure academy, as tradition demanded, no student was priveleged to know the names of those who taught them.

The four students- three of them girls, unusual but not unheard of- presented themselves before the Mizukage. The Mizukage, however, wasn't entirely focused on them. His attention was drawn, rather, to a student in the back of the room, with dusky skin, and inky black eyes like the soulless orbs of a shark. Those eyes were locked firmly on the backs of the heads of the four who had been called forward, his expression carefully neutral.

"What about that one?" The Kage asked the instructors. "Tell me about him."

Nageru blinked in surprise, before he pulled out a notebook from his pouch. After a moment leafing through it, he handed the opened notebook to the Mizukage. "Here is his record, Mizukage-sama."

The Kage perused the open page. "Hmmm. Mediocre taijutsu, moderate chakra reserves, poor ninjutsu... passable kenjutsu, decent stealth... Not much of a standout," the Kage mumbled absently. He looked up again, seeing the boy staring steadily at him, and Mizukage noticed with a hint of delight that the boy seemed to have absolutely no fear what-so-ever. "You think you can do better than these four, boy?" He asked the genin. "Prove it. Kill the four of them."

The four genin, top of their class, recognized an ultimatum when they heard it. Kunai flashed to their hands as they spun to charge the still knealing boy, but the dusky skinned child smiled a predator's grin as he raised a single hand in the sign of the Tiger. A quartet of explosions hammered everyone's ears in the enclosed space, and the four charging genin flew in separate directions as concealed explosive tags on their bodies detonated almost together.

The boy calmly went from body to body, slitting their throats to be certain, the grin never leaving his face. Near the door, the Mizukage chuckled. "How did you know you'd be told to kill them?"

"I didn't." The boy replied. The body he was checking starting thrashing, trying to stab him with a fist load spike; the boy tilted his upper body to the side and let it pass by before stabbing his kunai into the other genin's temple with a grunt of effort and a crunch of bone. With a jerk he pulled the blade free before slitting the throat as he had with the other three. "I put tags on everyone."

The Mizukage laughed, long and loud, as a few of the other genin, already queasy from their graduation, turned their eyes aside and took deep breaths. After a few seconds, the Mizukage nodded. "Speak your name, boy, and enter my service."

"My name is Hoshigake Kisame, and I swear myself and my life to the service of Kirigakure and the Mizukage."

The Mizukage's sharpened teeth gleamed in the dim light of the room.

* * *

Above them, still observing, one of the academy students watched with bright eyes, eagerly anticipating his own graduation.

_Just you wait. I'll be the greatest graduate ever._ Momochi Zabuza thought to himself. _I'll be just like him._

**End Prologue.**

* * *

It's something I've never seen done on , so I thought what the hell. Submitted for your approval, I give to you: Seven.

Ja mata.

-AXENOME


End file.
